


[In which Donovan doesn’t apologize]

by pengke



Series: In which... [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Reichenbach-Related, Sherlock series 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengke/pseuds/pengke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally, Sherlock, and John meet for the first time since Sherlock's return from the dead.</p>
<p>Can be read alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[In which Donovan doesn’t apologize]

[In which Donovan doesn’t apologize]

They met in the hallway. She was leaving Lestrade’s office as they were making their way towards it. No one said a word in the chilly silence as a murmur built in the periphery.

Sherlock waved on elegant hand towards the office. In silent agreement, she led the way and they stepped inside, closing the door to hide them from prying eyes. They didn’t need an audience for their meeting.

John stepped through to the far side of the room, watching. Sherlock paused at the desk, letting his fingers drift against the wood as he lounged against it. He didn’t say anything as he never took his eyes off her. A hint of a smirk played at his lips; he was enjoying the tension.

Donovan crossed her arms and threw her shoulders back, puffing out her metaphorical bristles like a startled porcupine. 

“I suppose you think I ought to apologize,” she said, with an animosity that couldn’t hide her discomfort at facing them. 

“Yes,” said John.

“No,” said Sherlock.

They turned to look at each other with surprise.

“No?” hissed John, leaning closer to Sherlock. “After what she did?” He jabbed angrily with one finger in Donovan’s direction.

“Come now, John,” drawled Sherlock in a bored tone. “What’s the first thing Sally told you when you met?”

“She called you a freak,” stated John flatly, levelling Donovan with an unhappy stare.

She glanced between the two of them and bit her lip.

“Wrong. Would you care to wager a guess, Miss Donovan?” Sherlock raised his eyes to her with his face carefully, innocently blank.

“That one day you’ll get bored and the murder that we’re investigating will have been yours?” She spoke softly, with no emotion, but her eyes never left Sherlock’s face.

“Exactly!” Sherlock beamed at her. She seemed startled. “So you see, John, I could hardly blame her for being so easily convinced when events finally conspired to prove her right.”

“She thought you’d kidnapped and poisoned two innocent children just to boost your ego!”

“Which I could have done,” added Sherlock with an edge of glee.

“You see, it’s that! That bit right there!” said Donovan, pointing her finger at Sherlock with a scowl.

John rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, conceding the point, as he crossed his arms, “but it still doesn’t excuse you thinking he’d faked all his cases.”

He stared at her pointedly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, John. Of course, she didn’t—“ Sherlock broke off and turned to look at Donovan who wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Oh, well, that’s disappointing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sherlock took his classic lecturing pose, beginning to pace around the small office.

“We worked together for years. You were right there with me for every step-“ He paused, and shrugged. “Well, for most of the steps,” he amended. “When could I have built the ruse? Did you really think that you wouldn’t have noticed?”

“I-“

“You have a brain, woman. Use it!” he admonished. “No one’s that good. Not even me.”

Donovan looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushed dark. She said nothing. He stared at her with utter disdain.

“But then you’ve always been good at self-delusion, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice taking on a spiteful mocking tone. “Followed whatsit’s face around for years thinking he’d leave his wife for you. His wife’s gone now.” Sherlock spread his hands. “So where’s he at?”

“You know full well that Phillip no longer speaks with me,” answered Donovan, glaring at him.

“And why is that?” asked Sherlock, pointedly.

“He convinced himself that we as good as murdered you,” she bit out between clenched teeth.

“Hmm. Such a pity,” replied Sherlock facetiously. He snatched up a sheet of paper from Lestrade’s desk and made a production out of reading it. “Do try to pick someone more worthy for your next go round,” he added without giving her another glance.

Donovan gaped at Sherlock with an open mouth. 

“Oh my God, you actually mean that.” She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time.

“Wait a minute,” interrupted John. He turned to Sherlock. “I thought you and Anderson got on now?”

Sherlock stared at John with bewilderment.

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“He’s the head of your fan club,” reminded John.

“Which only further proves that he’s a spineless—“

“Well, would you look at that,” said Lestrade, leaning against the doorframe to his office. “My kiddies are bonding.”

Sherlock recoiled like he had been mortally offended and Donavan scowled while John merely quirked an eyebrow in amusement. Lestrade grinned at them.

“I’m glad to see you’re not fighting.”

Donovan tossed her hair over her shoulder and held her head up high.

“I still don’t like him,” she said, stubbornly. “And he has no business interfering with police work.”

“Oh, you can relax about that, Donovan,” responded Sherlock irritably. “You’ve still got a few months before the Yard gets desperate enough to come calling. For now, I’ve had to rely on my clients…and my brother,” he spat with disgust, his shoulders shuddering lightly, “to keep me busy.”

“Then why are you here?” she challenged, raising her chin and crossing her arms again.

“We’re having lunch,” answered Lestrade, leaning down to scoop up his jacket from the back of his chair. “Would you care to join us?”

“Oh. Um, no.” Donovan appeared at a loss for words and gestured vaguely towards the door. “I’ll just go.” Her forehead wrinkled as she made an awkward face. “I, um, I have filing.”

The three men watched her retreating back.

“Well,” said Sherlock, perkily. “That was fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not long after watching TSoT, I was reading my older stories - seeing where they’d been Jossed - and I wondered what the reunion between this John and Sherlock and this Sally would have looked like. It seems fitting that the first thing I wrote after series three was a follow-up to the first thing I wrote after series two. I don’t know if series three Sherlock would be quite this vitriolic, but it has always seemed to me that Sherlock’s worst attitude towards Sally came when he was disappointed in her.


End file.
